


Twin mess

by LitChick88 (CapaldiGirl88)



Category: Impractical Jokers, the tenderloins
Genre: Babysitting, Cleaning, F/M, Germs, Paranoia, Phobia, Uncle Sal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5659198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapaldiGirl88/pseuds/LitChick88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sal has spent the day babysitting and you arrive home to witness your darling germaphobic husband on the brink of a germ meltdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twin mess

The house is silent when you arrive home and instantly you worry- your brows knit together as you close the front door and kick off your shoes, glad to be home after another busy day at work. Normally the house being so quiet wouldn't bother you however you know that both your niece and your nephew are over for the day and supposedly being babysat by your husband as he had a rare day off.  
“Sal? You home honey?” You continue into the living room and initially think that you’ve been burgled until you realise that the floor is only littered with building blocks and other toys yet still your husband is nowhere to be seen.  
“Sal?” You call a little louder and immediately hear a noise which when you reflect you think sounds more like ‘help’ than anything else.  
“Salvatore will you bloody answer me?” You shout and immediately take the stairs two at a time when you hear a very distinct call for help coming from upstairs.  
The sight that awaits you as you enter the bedroom splits your emotions in two; on one hand you want to smile softly at the image of your husband cuddled up with your niece and nephew, a set of two year old twins, who are cuddled together on your bed asleep whereas the other half of you takes note of Sal’s face and can see that he is about thirty seconds away from a spectacular meltdown.  
“Sal you okay?” You coax, needing to ensure that his mental health was still intact before you did anything else.  
“No I’m not- get me out of this situation before I explode. I can't handle this.” He grates however his tone remains even and you know that he doesn't want to wake the babies.  
“Give me two minutes.” You promise and pull out your phone, dialling your sister and immediately informing her that she needs to come and get her children ASAP. She readily agrees and you end the call before anything else can be said, knowing that your husband needs to be your first priority.  
“What do you need Sal?” You ask as you quickly and stealthily move your niece over to the other side of the bed to cuddle with her twin and effectively free your husband from their clutches.  
“Shower.” He gasps and runs for the ensuite bathroom and you know that this evening will be a long night of making everything Sal Standard clean as well as helping Sal deal with the trials of the day and the germs and mess that toddlers both have and create.

With your niece and nephew now safely handed back over to the care of their mother you head into the kitchen and pull out Sal’s bag of cleaning and disinfecting products and leave them on the counter, knowing you will need them very soon.  
“Sal they’ve gone.” You say as you enter the ensuite but stop when you have to fight your way through the steam- you know that this doesn't bode well and says a lot about your husbands mental state which your confirm when you see Sal sat at the bottom of the shower in his clothes, his head bowed and his arms wrapped around his bent knees, the scalding water bouncing off his head and back.  
“Honey you need to get out of the shower.” You advise, knowing from experience that Sal’s germaphobic behaviour will overrule every other thought and block out his pain receptors because he is trapped in his own mind. When he doesn't even acknowledge your presence you open the shower door and reach in to turn off the scalding water, wincing when it stings your skin, only to find your hand clasped in a scorching grasp and held under the spray.  
“Five more minutes.” He pleads, looking up at your from under his water-filled lashes and you know you shouldn't allow it but his gaze breaks your heart. He releases your arm and you immediately run to the sink to soothe the hot flesh under the cold tap, knowing that you are going to probably need some burn cream on hand for when he is in his right mind again.  
Not two minutes later you decide that’s enough and quickly shut off the water before he can complain- holding out a fresh clean towel for him.  
“Sal strip off your clothes and I’ll wash them. Then you can have a normal wash.” You placate, knowing that it won't be that easy but you live in hope that your difficult man would one day find an easier way to cope with his phobias rather than scalding off his skin.  
“I'm so filthy.” He moaned but stood himself up and slowly began to shed his hot waterlogged clothes, leaving them at his feet in the shower tray.  
“You’re not dirty baby… That water was scalding, germs can't survive in water like that. Finish washing and I’ll find you some clean clothes.” He nods but then locks his dirty green eyes onto yours and you can't help but tear up at his face, he looks so defeated and your heart swells with emotion.  
“I’ll change the bed sheets and leave you some clothes out. If you want me once you're out of the shower I’ll be downstairs cleaning the living room. Come and join me when you’re done.” At this moment in time you would love to press your lips to your husband’s, to caress his stubbled face and run your fingers through his wet hair but you know that his brain hasn’t processed everything enough to allow you near yet. So you content yourself with making his life that little it easier by stripping and changing the bed and then laying out some loose shorts and a vest for him. 

Twenty five minutes later sees you standing in the cleanest room in the entire house with sweat beading on your brow. This was not what you envisioned when you came home from work but the more you cleaned the more you realised that waving Sal with two year old twins wasn't really the best situation, all things considered, but he had initially agreed- loving spending time with all of his nieces and nephews.  
A creak on the stairs alerted you to Sal’s presence and you watch with wary eyes as he stands at the doorway peering in, not quite daring himself to cross the threshold into the once messy room.  
“Is it ok?” He asks meekly and your mind giggles at the pitiful sight he makes but you wouldn't dare let that giggle out for fear of completely destroying Sal’s current fragile state of mind.  
“Every surface has been cleaned with the spray, the wipes and the Hoover. It’s spotless Sal.” He enters and you gasp when you see the damage he has done to his skin form the scalding water of the shower.  
“Oh honey.” You moan softly, reaching out to touch him and trying not to take offence when he recoils from your touch like you have the plague.  
“Please don’t.” He begs, his sludgy green eyes pleading with you to understand because he can't explain how he is feeling right now.  
“I’ll go shower and disinfect and then we can have some food eh?” You offer, knowing that he needs you to be as clean as he is before he can relax and then touch you like you know he really wants to. 

Now clean and smelling of alcohol rub you pause halfway down the stairs at the smells wafting in from the kitchen. You know that Sal is the king of cereal and sandwiches so there isn't much chance of him cooking however the smell of something fragrant is tantalising your tastebuds. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, Sal pops his head out of the kitchen and smiles softly at you, green eyes happy and shining.  
“I ordered in, figured we could do with something that was minimal fuss after my meltdown.” You grin in his direction but feel your heart thud in your chest when he steps fully into the doorway and open his arms to you, beckoning you to him. You need no second invitation and cross the hallway in three strides before pressing yourself against his large chest, your arms coming around his waist as you bury your face into his stubbled neck.  
“Thank you baby. I don't know how you put up with me most of the time.” He admits and you can't help but chuckle, knowing that Sal is a challenge and sometimes his ways drive you insane but you also know that you couldn't live without him in your life.  
“Because I love you, you big dope.”  
“I love you too.” He murmurs before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.  
“Can we eat now I’m starving.” He moans and you both chuckle before heading into the kitchen to retrieve your food.  
When you're both seated at the dining table you stare at your husband and find that you can't resist asking, “So my sister asked if the same time next week was okay?” The look of sheer horror on Sal’s face is enough to set you off giggling and it’s some time before you can successfully eat a forkful of food without dissolving into laughter, much to the consternation of your husband.  
You had a funny feeling that he wouldn't offer to babysit anyone ever again.


End file.
